Why?
by Roux Cherie
Summary: You could have helped her. You should have helped all along. But you didn't. Why didn't you help her? AU
1. One, You Watch

**Title:** Why?  
><strong><span>Disclaimer:<span>** We all know I don't own Naruto, mmkay? I'd be making loads in Japan rather than writing this, yes? kaythnxbai.

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><p><strong>Dedication:<strong> To those who live with a fake smile, hiding all the abuse and torment from the worlds eyes, to those who have to put up with so much crap without shedding a tear and having people worrying about them while they live their lives not even sparing a thought for your possible troubles, while you dump your own problems on them, to those who have lived for so long without being noticed, loved, or even considered and living with the one person they hate the most: themselves.

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong> Drugged up on Cherry Coke as I write this, leaving me an emotional wreck as I thought of this idea, I really wanted to highlight that not everybody is happy. Even those who pretend like nothing is wrong are only acting so most likely because they are messed up in the head, abused, and not loved. I want to make the statement that maybe people should spend a little more time thinking of those people, getting to know them a bit more, letting them talk things out with someone, or simply making them smile a real smile.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<br>**You were walking down that same road again. You know, the one that leads you to the bar? The one you walk down with the five people you hate to admit are your friends. No, that's not right, you would _never_ admit they were your friends. Maybe Naruto. But only in another universe. Haha, yeah, like if you were some super ninja type guy, the last remaining of his clan, brutally murdered by your older brother, who you swore would avenge no matter what, and all you ever did was fight with Naruto, both of you always competing to get stronger. No different from what you two are like now. Always fighting. Always swearing you hate each other, when all you do is hang out together and deep down you know that both of you are like brothers.

Heh...maybe.

But the other four, no. Yeah okay so they're good company. Even you need a break from your loud mouth of a "brother". Inuzuka. Hyuuga. Hozuki. Nara. Yeah, they're okay.

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><p>So you're walking down the high street towards the pub. It's eightish, you're not sure. You left your watch at home after being forced to do the dishes and you just can't be bothered to lift your HTC out your pocket to check. Even though you're right hand is in said pocket, as usual. You're so lazy. You can here your mother's patronizing voice in the back of your head telling you so. Four of your companions are a few scuffed feet ahead of you, laughing, shoving, checking out the girls that sashay by.<p>

Shikamaru walks next to you. You thank the heavens that he isn't much of a talker. A bit of peace and quiet, contrasting the idiots in front. You don't need to glance at him to know that he's in his charismatic pose: hands linked just above his poinytail (seriously, wtf is that all about?), using them as a pillow for his head as he watches the sky cloud over. Clouds. Of course. That's why he's not watching where he's going yet manages to sidestep everything that could stumble his stride. He takes the last of the cigarette out of his mouth and flings it to the ground, not bothering to stamp it out as he watches it roll into a puddle, then resume his previous position.

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><p>You've reached the local. Three of the four in front of you stumble in, still joking about something that happened not only five minutes ago. Naruto holds onto the door frame, asking you if you want your usual. You nod in response and tag the table of six that's always reserved outside for your group. The Nara male takes his usual spot by the outside window and take out a paper and a tin of baccy. He's got menthol filters this time. He swipes out his lighter and takes a drag. Your lips snarl ever so slightly at the disgusting habit, but you turn your head, not caring as per usual. It's his funeral after all. You're not the type of guy to go all preachy on him and tell him the whys and wherefores of smoking.<p>

The four guys return three minutes later with your drinks. The pub must be quiet if it didn't take that long. You quickly take your beer of the tray before anyone asks any questions and tug your fringe back over your forehead. Naruto, Neji, Kiba and Suigetsu take their seats and so begins the customary ruckus of five guys that have had one to many.

You smirk ever so slightly at the repetitive routine of this night.

To the loudness of your "friends" and the bittersweet of the ice cold beer you hold in your metaphorically ice cold hands to that small, dainty and fragile girl across the road that you see every night.

Remember her?

Of course you do.

Her image is disturbing.

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><p><strong>AN: So this is another AU series I've started. It's not going to be very long. Maybe only a few chapters because I don't want it distrcting from my main one, There's A Time And A Place, but I hope this is okay for now :)**

**Review before faving please :)**

**Roux-chan xxx**


	2. Two, You Promise

**Title:** Why?  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> We all know I don't own Naruto, mmkay? I'd be making loads in Japan rather than writing this, yes? kaythnxbai.

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><p><strong>Dedication:<strong> I don't like to repeat myself...

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong> I think that listening to "The A Team" by Ed Sheeran makes a difference while you're reading this, just to emphasize my dedication. If this is the first of my stories you've read, please check out my other one, There's A Time And A Place, ta :)

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><p><strong>Chapter<strong> **2**  
>You watch her. She's wearing the same shredded jeans and worn out plimsolls. Her top's new. Doesn't look designer though. Unlike the black Vivienne Westwood t-shirt you're wearing, Levi Strauss jeans, black All Stars and black Diesel Jarrow Jacket that's shielding you from the onset of winter. No, she's wearing a plain white tee with a little pink flower in the corner that's torn away, and a flimsy pink cardigan over her shoulders, not even bothering to hide her shivering. Her hair, brushing her waistline, doesn't look like it's been washed in a couple of days, however her striking pink hair hides no shame. While the guys carry on drinking and laughing, you analyse her, like you always do...<p>

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><p><strong>She has dark circles and bags under her eyes.<strong>

_But you don't know she was up all night looking after her dying mother._

**She hands over the wrong amount of money to the stall owner.**

_And you don't know she doesn't have an education._

**She's limping.**

_But you don't know that she has bruises on the insides of her thighs from the amount of times she's sold herself to pay for the bare necessities to keep her and her mother going._

**She's holding onto her wrists.**

_And you don't know she cuts herself to take away the pain of being raped and beaten by her drunk father._

**She's mumbling to herself.**

_But you don't know it's because she's schizophrenic that she is abused._

**She's oh so thin.**

_And you don't know that she's anorexic because she hates herself and has to feed her mother._

**She's forever coughing.**

_But you don't know she has hypothermia from working all day in fields in the cold weather for less than a hundred and twenty-one yen a day._

**She has red, puffy eyes.**

_And you don't know she cries herself to sleep every night._

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><p>She looks over at you. Like she does every night.<p>

The two of you have some sort of connection. You have silent conversations every night. She stares at you helplessly with giant emerald eyes, boring into your obsidian's. She begs of you with her smile. "Please..." She doesn't need to finish her sentence. You know what she is asking of you. You're probably the closest thing to a friend she has, but once again, you communicate "I'm so sorry." She half laughs, her head dropping to her chest, it's what she expected from you as usual. She looks up at you. "Thank you anyway..." You know she's thanking you for your company. Her knuckles turn whiter than whiter as she clenches on to the shopping bags she's limply clinging to.

You hate seeing her like this. It's disgusting.

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><p>What ever landed on your cheek, you hope it's a water droplet. You look up to the sky that should mirror your eyes, your hair, your personality, but it's not there. Oh yeah, clouds.<p>

"Fuck, man. It's rainin'." Naruto moaned.

"I thought it would." Shikamaru replied, following your gaze.

"If you knew, Mr I-Stare-At-Clouds-So-Much-That-I-Can-Predict-The-Weather, why didn't you tell us?" You don't need to even glance at Naruto to know that he's only had one beer and the alcohol has already gone to his head.

"What, and ruin the surprise?" The Nara male retaliated nonchalantly. Three others laughed, Nara sighed in content, Naruto sulked and you smirked.

You look back across the street but it's too late, she's already left. Probably back to her crappy home life that you wish you could do something about. Your five companions start to rush inside the pub, being careful to not spill their drinks. You stand to follow suit. But your conscience stops you. Suigetsu waits by the door frame for you. You tell him you'll be there in a moment. He walks in, saying something about how you're a dumbass for staying outside in the cold and rain for no reason but you dismiss it.

You walk away from the pub and onto the pavement, obstructing the crowd of scurrying late night shoppers. Some mutter obscenities, others just barge past you, but you ignore them, taking advantage of your height and searching for that unmissable pink. After a lot of blacks, greys and brunettes, you see her at the back of the crowd, walking in the opposite direction of the shelter-seeking throng. She's stopped at a bus stop about half a block down, but refusing to seek its shelter like the others as torrents cascade to the earth, disguising her uncontrollable sobs. You wonder how many times she's done that this week, or at least in public. Her hair, cardigan and top, lifeless jeans and ruined plimsolls drenched through, but she doesn't seem to care. You run a hand through your hair, sweeping those defiant locks out of your vision in irritation. She seems to have stopped crying and held her head up. She shaking now, coughing again, rubbing her wrists, still mumbling, rubbing her face in what seems to be an attempt to shake herself out of some sort of daze, massaging her eyes and temples.

A few deep breaths later and she turns her head subconsciously in your direction. Her extensive hair flying behind her, shorter strands clinging to her face. As soon as she spots you, she draws in a quick breath. You step forward yet she steps back, shaking her head furiously. Your eyebrows knit into a frown at her reaction. Earlier, she was begging for your help, now she rejects it. You don't understand. She confuses you further as she smiles empathetically at you. You think you see her eyes well up again as she spins around and runs away as safely as possible with out slipping up.

You watch her go. Her bubblegum hair flapping around behind her. You made a promise to yourself. You promised tomorrow night you would approach her. Buy her dinner. Give her some money for the week. Make her laugh for the first time in her life. Make her smile a real smile. Or even just talk to her. Let her confide in someone. You quietly resolve that you will definitely help her tomorrow. Somehow.

You promised.

But little did you know that it was the last you would see of her.

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><p><strong>AN: Sorry it's a bit long but this is the build up to the climax of the last chapter and I wanted to get it all in one shot.**

**Please review before clicking that little "Go" button below please :)**

**Roux xxx**


	3. Three, You Help

**Title:** Why?  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Do I have to? No? kaythnxbai.

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><p><strong>Dedication:<strong> Again, I don't want to repeat myself because it's just to sad...

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong> Last chapter peeps, I've literally just got up so I'm sorry if it's a bit messy :P If this is the first of my stories you've read, please check out my other one, There's A Time And A Place, ta :)

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><p><strong>Chapter<strong> **3**  
>So there you were again, on that cobbled street towards your mate's favourite local. After a lot of negotiation and arguments, you managed to convince them to come here earlier. You reckon it's about half seven in the evening, since once again, you can't be bothered to take your phone out of your pocket. It had been raining all afternoon, you guess so by the amount of puddles surrounding your feet. The other five have stayed ahead of you. It's like they can sense something is up with you tonight, your determination, with a pinch of anger, and a sprinkle of happiness, knowing that you are going to do a good thing tonight. It's still just as cold as it was yesterday so you do your jacket up, wondering if you should lend it to her when you see her.<p>

That girl. Yeah, that's why you are here. Not for the beer, not to have to be forced to associate those idiotic friends of yours, not to watch _her _but to help her.

Watching your feet as you amble along you fail to notice the sickening silence that surrounds the street tonight. Stalls were empty, people weren't littering the pavement, and you walk into the back of your friends who had stopped in the middle of the street. You start to curse, but they are staring straight ahead of themselves, ignoring your stumbling. You turn your head in the direction they are looking. Blue lights are flashing impatiently, a small crowd gather at the end of the street. Your friends shrug and joke about some idiot not watching where they were going as they crossed the street and almost skip into the warmth of the pub. This time, no one waits for you as you assess the street. No one was around, not even her. It all starts adding up. Then you're running. As fast as you can.

Hoping you aren't too late.

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><p>You reach the crowd and force your way to the front. Your heart weakens at the sight of that small, dainty and fragile girl being lifted onto a stretcher and hauled into the ambulance that is anxious to speed its way to the hospital, but the humans that control it demand its obedience to wait just a little longer. The people around you start talking. "Poor thing" and "She didn't deserve this" and "I hope she goes to a better place" start ringing in your ears.<p>

You ask aloud "Who is she?" to no one in particular, hoping someone will answer you. A little old lady next to you answered "She was our favourite customer." A few others murmured in response. You presume that these are the stall owners that she shops at.

"We all felt so sorry for her." Answered another. "We asked if we could help her in any way but she begged of us to not worry. So we gave her everything half price."

"What was wrong with her?" You find yourself asking. And then, as if all of stall owners were one person, they all answered the question together.

"She was always talking to herself, as if she was trying to keep herself sane. I think it might've been schizophrenia."

"No, it was paranoia."

"I heard she was bipolar."

"Isn't that why she's always limping?"

"Yeah, her father beats her because of her mental condition."

"No, he rapes her".

"No, she sells herself to pay for medical things for her mother."

"Yeah, that's right. She's up all night looking after her mother."

"That'll explain why she's so tired and red-eyed. She must cry herself to sleep."

"Then why is she so thin, I wonder? Even though she buys food from us."

"It must be to feed her parents."

"Don't you get it? She's anorexic because she hates her life."

You're getting sick of hearing all of this. Yet somebody's last comment makes you feel even more disgusting.

"But she's always smiling. That's the saddest thing of all."

You nod in agreement. A paramedic walks over as you stare destitute at the ambulance. If you had no self control, you would punch it open and pull her out, take her home and help your mother look after her. The paramedic is asking for your attention so you snap your head up.

"Do you know her?" he asks. Strangely, you nod.

"Can I ask her name?" That's when you realize you don't know her at all. You wish you did. You wish you could have stopped everything that went wrong in her life. When you don't reply, a stall owner next to you answers for you.

"He's just in shock." she pats you on the arm. "Her name is Haruno Sakura. Seventeen years of age. Only child."

"Thank you, ma'am. Excuse me sir, are you any relation to her?" he asks you again.

"I..." What are you to her? You don't know her. You can't lie to him about what you know of her. Hell, you can't even pretend that you tried to help. But you have to some how. This is the opportunity to help her. You stick with her from here on out. This is your way of helping her.

"I'm her... h-h-her brother." Since when did you stutter? Since you feel guilty for not bothering to help a girl in dire need of comfort and safety.

"Name?" He just wont leave you alone will he?

"Uchiha Sasuke." You realize your mistake. "I'm her...half brother."

"Master Uchiha. Pleasure to meet you. I didn't know you had a half sister." _"Neither did I."_ You mutter in your head. The paramedic writes something on a clipboard you didn't notice him holding.

"Can you come with us please?" It wasn't a question, it was an order. You mouth "thank you" to the lady you were standing next to as you walk towards the ambulance. You step inside, forgetting you were meant to be in the pub with your mates, remembering that tonight you promised to help her. You sit on a bench beside her. Wires and machines all fed into her, a breathing mask over her nose and mouth. A different paramedic sat opposite you.

"What happened to her?" You needed to know the answer.

"She just collapsed in the street. Stall owners say she couldn't hold her own weight any more. We've quickly checked her over. Big signs of anorexia, a few fractured ribs and collarbone, she's broken a bone in her foot, she's been slitting her wrists..." and turns her hands over to prove it to you. So many tiny red lines scar her arm, as if they were in a hurry to get from once space in the air to another and she was in their way. But that's just a story to hide the truth. Hey, the paramedic's still talking. "...she's got a chest infection, most likely pneumonia or hypothermia, and the stall owners say she also has a mental condition, which we will scan for once we reach to the hospital."

You stare at those malnourished hands of hers. How one earth she has lasted seventeen years, you don't know. You decide to take one in your own hand. She's unbelievable cold. You recoil slightly, but hold her palm gently, afraid to break her.

The paramedic opposite you asks if you two live together. You answer "No, I was on my way to visit her actually. Haven't seen her for years and I felt terrible for not helping her out." You thank your mother that you are a good liar.

"You knew this was happening to her?" she stares at you in shock.

"No... I just knew she was living rough..." You continue to watch her shallow breathing.

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><p>You've reached the hospital. They take her out first and rush her into A the female paramedic takes you to reception to fill out a form about yourself and the girl. But you don't know anything about her. You apologise to the nurse at reception but she tells you that she's been informed that you know little about her anyway and asks you to wait in the seating area. This is the part you hate. This is where they make you wait for hours while they do Kami knows what behind those walls.<p>

You phone vibrates in your pocket. You take it out, knowing that its your friends asking where you are, like they have been for the past hour or so. You don't bother looking at the small, metallic device in your hand as you turn it off and shove it back in your pocket.

Sure enough, two and a half hours later, a doctor walks in calling your name. It must be about ten o'clock and you're so tired that you stumble getting out of your chair. You amble across to the doctor and he says "We need to talk to you."

By "we", he means himself, and by "talk", it means "she's going to die, "we" just wanted to let you know".

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><p>He takes you upstairs to the ICU. The smell of disinfectant fills your nose and you have the need to gag. But you compose yourself as he takes you to her room. He wont let you go in, but he lets you watch her through the small window in the door.<p>

"In case you don't know," the doctor starts as you continue to stare through the window. "Her anorexia has eaten away most of her. She's been damaged beyond repair and her hypothermia has gone on far too long with out being treated and soon she wont be able to breathe."

"What are you trying to say?" You stubbornly ask, even though you know the answer.

"I'm saying, sir, that we can try to wake her up if you want to say goodbye... but I'm afraid she's just too weak to carry on living." He stands patiently waiting for your answer.

You see the irony in this. Here she lays, surrounded by disease and death, yet she is probably the strongest person in this hospital to last seventeen years of such a shitty life, and can smile about it. Your angry. So fucking angry now. You punch the wall in exasperation. The doctor asks you to calm down and still waits for your answer.

But beeping interrupts your thoughts.

The doctor curses and rushes into her room, yelling for a crash cart.

This is it. This is the end. You've watched her for as long as you can remember, forgoing suffering you can't even begin to imagine. And now, as your punishment, you get to watch her die. There is another doctor and three nurses in the room, using their life saving hands to work their magic, while you stand paralyzed, helpless as usual.

The commotion in the room, along with the aggravating, furious beeping of the machines stop. Replaced by silence and a continuous noise.

Flat line.

_Sakura..._

You could have helped her. You should have helped all along. But you didn't. Why didn't you help her?

Why?

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><p><strong>AN: Okay so it's finished now. I'm glad it only took two days to write because I didn't want it eating away at me. Hope you enjoyed it, I'll try and write a one-shot if I get a good idea. This was mean to be a one-shot but it was just too long. Anyone have any requests? **

**Thank you to all those who have read it so far, even though there's only a few, I hope I've kind got the message across.**

**Please please review, it'll mean a lot to me...**

**Till next time...**

**Roux Cherie xxx**


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